Missing Pieces
by Bluedrake
Summary: A story inspired by the TV mini series starring Charles Dance and Teri Polo. Takes on the characters' views. PG13 for angst and mild suggestivness. Completed at long last! Please read and review.
1. Back to space 1

Disclaimer : I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Gaston Leroux.  
  
Alain Choletti and Gerard Carriere belong to Misters Yeston and Kopit. I make no money out of this, it is purely for entertainment.  
  
  
  
Author's note : This is just a little add-on to the TV mini series starring Charles Dance and Terri Polo. I always regretted the absence of the masked ball in that version. Just to situate you in the story, here is a little summary of what happens before the added scene : Christine is taken by Erik to his underground home. He takes her out for a picnic in his underground forest, she then convinces him to remove his mask. She faints, he goes berserk and locks her up in a cell. She breaks out and escapes Erik. This is where I change the story. Instead of escaping, Christine is caught by Erik, and read the story to find out what happens next.  
  
  
  
1 Christine's point of view  
  
I managed to open the lock, but I had to run away. God only knew what he would do in his state of insane rage. I had never seen him like that, he had always been so gentle, so kind with me. The worst was that I could not even blame him for his behavior. I had brought it all upon myself, like the silly girl I was. I made my way to the stairs, being careful not to attract his attention. He was destroying the boat, the lovely boat he had used to bring me to his house the first time. I ran up the stairs as fast as I could. The sounds of destruction stopped, and rapid foot steps were heard instead. He was running after me again. I would not, I could not let him catch me. He would do something terrible in his anger. I ran through endless corridors, not knowing where to go. I climbed every stairs I could find. The higher I went, the closer I would be to the surface. He was faster than I, he would catch up soon. I hid behind a pillar, clasping a hand over my mouth to muffle the sound of my breathing. He stopped running too. He was looking about the room. I saw his hand crawling around the pillar concealing me. I dashed down the hall, trying desperately to distance him. Another staircase, he was not far behind. I would have hit myself for what happened next if I had not knocked been knocked out first. I tripped on the edge of my gown and fell down the stairs. My head hit the ground, and the last thing I saw before oblivion engulfed me were his eyes glaring at me from behind his black mask.  
  
  
  
2 Erik's point of view  
  
I was completely lost in my black mood. Foolish, silly Christine! How could I have thought she could actually look at my face and smile. Nobody could do that. I didn't need to wonder how she knew about my mother. Gerard must have told her. I knocked down one of the carousel horses in the water. Damn her. Damn her! I became vaguely aware of foot steps hurrying away. She had broken out of the cell! She would not get away so easily. I tore off after her, not caring in the least if I ran across Gerard again. She was fast, but not enough to lose me. I arrived into a pillared room. The sound of her running had stopped. She was hiding in the room. I was careful not to make any noise, that way she could not tell where I was. I slid my hand around the last column, and a white clad figure darted off and up the stairs. I followed suit. I would not let her get away. No one who had seen my face was allowed to leave the cellars. I heard a scream, and then a tumbling sound. I rushed forward. She was lying at the foot of the stairs, a faint line of blood trickling down her forehead. She looked at me with clouded eyes, and passed out.  
  
  
  
3 Christine's point of view  
  
I was disoriented at first. I could not remember anything. Where was I? My head was pounding and cold. My leg hurt too. What had happened? It all came back in a rush : running away from Erik, falling down the stairs, and then nothing. I tried to sit up, but I was pushed down by two gentle hands. Someone was applying a damp cloth to my forehead. That explained the coldness. I was lying in a bed. My vision cleared somewhat after a minute. I was in a comfortable room lighted by many candles. Was I back at my flat? I blinked a few times to clear my vision, and saw that I wasn't in my flat at all. I was in my room in the house by the lake. Erik was carefully dabbing at my face with a wet cloth. I saw it was stained with blood. Erik was wearing a mask I had not seen before. It was white, with a black tear below each eye. Pierrot, I thought. Strange how he had a mask for each of his moods, but it made sense, he could not show his face, he had to have another way of showing his emotions. He dipped the cloth in a bowl of water on a nearby table and resumed cleaning up my face. I closed my eyes with a sigh, the cool water was soothing my headache. He reached out with his other hand to run his thumb across my cheek. I glanced up at him. I wanted to apologize, to say how sorry I was : "Erik I…" He silenced me by placing his thumb on my lips. I then realized what I had done. I was not supposed to know his name, he had never told me what it was. He did not seem surprised. I sat up against my pillows. He put the cloth away and got up. "It was a bad fall you took my dear. You twisted your ankle. I suggest you rest now." He said simply before going back to his own room. I noticed that my foot was bandaged. I heard the sound of his flute floating through the door. I lied down, allowing myself to be lulled to sleep by his enchanted music.  
  
  
  
4 Erik's point of view  
  
I kneeled down next to her, my anger melting away like snow in the sun. My poor child. I picked her up slowly, weary of injuring her further. I carried her back to my house. It would do her no good to stay here and freeze. I laid her in her bed carefully and proceeded to examine her. Nothing broken, that was a relief. Her left foot was swelling up. I felt the bone to ascertain it was sound. Only twisted, thank God. I quickly bandaged her foot, and looked at the cut on her head. It was not too deep. A bad bruise, a small cut and a bump, nothing alarming. I went to my room to fetch a bowl and a washcloth to clean her up. I paused before my dresser and mechanically replaced my black mask with my Pierrot mask. I filled the bowl with cold water and went back to Christine. I washed the blood first. I did not want her golden hair to be stained. I did not want to leave her, even after I was done. I kept dabbing at her face with the cloth gently. She was so pretty when she was asleep. As I dabbed the cloth to her cheek, a few drops fell on her neck. I watched as one of the drops went down the length of neck, stopping at the hollow of her throat. I felt something stir in the pit of my stomach, and shook my head. Now was not the time for such thoughts. Suddenly she frowned, and her eyes fluttered open. She was waking up. She tried to sit up but I pushed her down. She was in no state to get up now. She blinked, and stared up at me. Her eyes darted around the room. She seemed lost. Perhaps she hit her head harder than I had thought. I put the cloth back to her forehead. She sighed and closed her eyes. I reached out to stroke her cheek. She looked up at me, she started to say something. "Erik I…" I put my thumb to her lips, not letting her continue. So Gerard had told her my name as well, I thought. She sat up again, I did not restrain her this time. I got up and turned away. "It was a bad fall you took my dear. You twisted your ankle. I suggest you rest now." I said before going back to my room. My eyes drifted to my flute. Playing would sooth my nerves, I thought. I picked up the instrument and brought it to my mouth, losing myself in the music.  
  
  
  
To be continued.  
  
  
  
Author's note : I know Erik is a little bolder than he is supposed to be, but that is how the movie depicted him. Also, he has many masks. One he wears all the time, and some he puts over that one. There will be more allusions to that in later chapters. If I get at least 10 reviews, I will continued that story. 


	2. Rendez-vous : take two

Disclaimer : I don't own any of the characters. They belong to Gaston Leroux. Alain Choletti and Gerard Carriere belong to Misters Yeston and Kopit.  
  
  
  
Christine's point of view  
  
I did not sleep well, but not only because of the pain. What would Erik do now? He said anyone who saw his face was never allowed to leave, and I had seen him. I now knew he would not hurt me, he would never hurt me, even in the darkest of tempers. He would never let me go either. I would never see my friends again. Meg, Madam Giry, Raoul… A sob escaped my mouth before I could suppress it. I turned and buried my face in my pillow. I didn't want to stay down here forever! I wanted to go back to the light, away from these dark vaults. I realized I had begun to cry. I tried to hold back my tears, but they would not be reined in. They kept flowing down, drenching my pillow, wracking sobs shaking my shoulders. Something pulled gently at my hair. A soft caress meant to reassure and comfort. Erik was stroking my hair. My sobbing subsided after a while, but he did not stop stroking my hair. He was humming softly. His hand slid down to my neck, then to my back, moving in circles. I sighed contentedly, he had never touched me in this manner before. He took my hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. His hand was surprisingly warm. I had stopped crying now. He let go of my hand, but he did not go right away. He leaned close to me, almost lying down at my side, lifted a lock of my hair, brought it to his lips, and kissed it. The he was gone. I fell asleep to embrace much more pleasant dreams.  
  
  
  
Erik's point of view  
  
I had put my flute back in it's place to check on Christine. She was sleeping, but not soundly. She was tossing and turning. The poor child must have been having a nightmare. Not wanting to wake her up, I went out of the house for a little walk. I unconsciously went back to the spot I had picked for our picnic. It could have been such a perfect moment, and it was all ruined because I let my heart get the better of me. "If you love me, let me love you too" she had said. The fact that she had seen my face and fainted plunged a knife through my heart, but those innocent, hasty words tore it apart, never to be mended. I knelt down and cleared up the dishes. There was no point in leaving that on the ground. I brought the basket back to the house, emptying it without haste. I pulled out the port bottle, protected by it's metal box. Port, not my favorite liquor, but I was in great need of spirits. I poured a small glass and downed it. No harm done in a single glass. I put down the bottle and went back to the task of emptying the basket, when I heard sobbing from Christine's room. I made my way there quietly, not wanting to startle her. She was probably prey to another nightmare. I opened the door and glanced inside. She was lying on her stomach, her face hidden in the pillow. She was awake then, and not victim of a nightmare as I had first thought. I found that to be more distressing than a nightmare. I went to stand by the bed, silently watching her. She was trembling, but it could not be from cold, the room was very warm. I sat next to her, and let my hand rest on her hair. I took a lock between my fingers and caressed it. Beautiful, golden silk. I stroked her hair gently, mindful of the bruise on the back of her head. She relaxed against my touch, her breathing slowed down and her sobbing subsided. I ran my hand down to her back, savoring the warmth of her body against my skin. My hand took on a gentle circling motion, running up and down her back. I took her hand in mine and held it tight for a few minutes. I let go of her, but I was reluctant to leave now. We had never shared such intimacy, and it was all I could have now. She was not fully aware of the situation. Going any further would have been taking advantage of her, but I allowed myself to indulge one last yearning. I leaned forward and picked a lock of hair. She did not look at me once during our little interlude, but she did not show any resistance or disapproval. I kissed her hair and went away. I had other matters to attend to now.  
  
  
  
Christine's point of view  
  
I woke up many hours later. I knew because the candles around the room had almost entirely burned down. I tried to get up, my injured ankle hindering me greatly. There was no sound coming from Erik's room, nor from the banks of the lake. I limped my way through the house in search of Erik, but he wasn't there. I went back to my room to wait for him. Then I noticed a carefully folded note on the dresser. It was from Erik. He said he had things to attend to above, and that he would be back early in the evening. I went to the drawing room to look at the clock. 18:30. He would be back in an hour or two then. I sat on the couch to rest my ankle. It was not seriously hurt, the swelling had considerably diminished, and the pain was retreating, but I still was careful not to put my whole weight on it. It would be pointless to try and run away again. I didn't know the way, and I would not go far with my ankle in that state. I picked up a book and read, patiently awaiting Erik's return. He came back earlier than I had thought he would. He was dressed in his black tail coat once more, his black cloak draped across his shoulders, his usual white mask in place. I had never found his appearance menacing before, but now I found it curiously unsettling. He towered over me, while Raoul was almost shorter than I was. Erik saw me and strode to my side. He placed the two boxes he was carrying next to me and turned to the fireplace, staring into the dancing flames. He did not speak, neither did I. I directed my attention to the packages he had brought. Large, light brown boxes, the kind clothes shops wrapped their customers' purchases in. I turned to ask Erik about the boxes, and saw that he was at my side. I gave a startled yelp. I was not used to his moving so silently about rooms, making no more sound than a shadow would. His dropped his chin slightly, his blue eyes fixed on me. He often did that when looking at me, sometimes as an acknowledgment, sometimes as an approval, and sometimes as an accusation. I shivered, remembering that time when I had lied to him. He had seen right through it. He could have made me die of shame with the power of his eyes that day. I snapped back to reality when Erik spoke my name. "Christine, are you listening? Good. As I was saying, there is a masked ball to be held at the opera in two days, and we shall go together. To make up for the picnic." He added as an afterthought. My heart wrenched painfully. Why did he have to mention that now? He bent down and opened the first box, and I saw it contained a white dress. He picked it up and placed it in my hands, as well as a black mask. "This will be your costume." He said. He took the other box and turned to leave. "I won't let you see my disguise right now, it will be a surprise." He whispered, and disappeared. I looked at the costume he had given me. Colombine *, how ironic it would be if he went as Polichinelle! *  
  
  
  
Erik's point of view  
  
I hated the idea of leaving her alone in the house, but I forced myself to go. She didn't know how to leave, and she wouldn't go far with a twisted ankle anyway. I went back to the surface, I had a few things to buy. I could not even begin to figure out why I wanted to take her to that masked ball. Perhaps I wanted to try again and have an outing with her. Had I been reasonable, I would never have taken her on that picnic and would have waited like a good boy for the masked ball. At least that way she wouldn't have asked about the mask, but then I am not sure. How much had Gerard told her? Knowing him, everything, down to the most excruciating details. I sighed. It was no good getting mad at Gerard, he never retaliated in kind, even when I was deliberately provoking him. Through my ravings I noticed I had found the shop I was looking for. I bent my head and went to the counter. I gave my name , not my real one, and the clerk extended two paper boxes to me. I paid for them and left in a hurry. I was always uncomfortable around people. The way they stared at my mask made me sick, but it would be far worse if I actually removed my mask. I shook my head and thought instead of the costumes in my boxes. Colombine for Christine and Red Death for me. It seemed fitting, because somehow, we would be going as ourselves. The innocent maiden loved by all and the murderous monster feared by all. Perhaps the vicomte would go as Arlequin, now that would be an amusing sight, I sneered. Grey clouds were gathering in the sky, it would rain soon. I quickened my pace, yearning to be back to the safety of my home. I reached the opera house as the first drops began to fall. I made my way to the house without haste, safely hidden behind the walls. I took the short cut, not feeling like rowing my way across the lake. The first thing I noticed when I entered the drawing room was Christine sitting on the couch, reading then looking up at me. I felt a surge of warmth in my chest. She had been waiting for me. I had a sudden urge to smile. It felt nice to have someone waiting for you, I mused. "But she would probably prefer to be somewhere else, waiting for a certain boy with blond hair and titled blood" a bitter voice snapped. I hurried to the couch, put down my boxes and went to stare into the fire. I felt like crying now, the truth of that statement hitting me with full force. I regained control of myself, and walked back to her side. She did not notice me, she seemed lost in thought as well. Her head abruptly turned to me, and she jumped. I looked at her, how easy it was to startle her. She started to shift on the couch, my gaze was making her uncomfortable. I returned to the boxes and opened the first one. The dress was made of such rich material that it was absurd to think it suited one such as Colombine, but I would have nothing but the best for Christine. I started to talk, but she was not listening, lost in her thoughts again. I cleared my throat to catch her attention. "Christine, are you listening? Good. As I was saying, there is a masked ball to be held at the opera in two days, and we shall go together. To make up for the picnic." I had not meant to say that aloud, but the words just leaped out. I could see the remark had distressed her. I daresay she felt as bad as I did about that particular event. I put the dress in her hands, along with a black mask in the shape of butterfly. "This will be your costume." I explained, feeling stupid. It was rather obvious it was for her. I wasn't likely to invite someone else, and I certainly had no intention of cross-dressing! I took the other box and turned. " I won't let you see my disguise right now, it will be a surprise." A surprise indeed. brave Arlequin, treacherous Polichinelle, mournful Pierrot and clueless Pantalon were in for some serious competition : The Red Death Stalking Abroad!  
  
  
  
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Author's notes : Whew! Second part is finished. The masked ball will happen in the next chapter then! I want to thank all those who have reviewed my story. Thank you for the great reviews!  
  
Just to clarify things : Erik's mask doesn't hide his whole face. The mask stops below his nose and hides his cheeks, but his mouth is not concealed, that's why he refrained from smiling, Christine would have seen him.  
  
* Colombine, Arlequin, Polichinelle, Pantalon and Pierrot are all characters from the "Commedia dell'arte" . Colombine is married to Pantalon, but she loves Arlequin, the dashing young hero. Polichinelle is a hunchback with a nasty personality who likes Colombine. I thought it would be interesting to compare the characters from both stories. And yes, all the men above are in love with Colombine.  
  
Special thanks to Gryffindorgrrrl for taking the time to post such nice reviews! (^_^)  
  
To answer "Sweet Thang akas Harrys crush" 's question, the mini series this story is based on first aired in 1990, I think, and starred Charles Dance. There is a DVD of it available, but to find it is another story. I got mine from amazon.com  
  
That version is one of the least faithful to Leroux's storyline, but the atmosphere is the one of the book. Charles Dance is one of the most intense phantoms ever to grace the screen. If you want more information, go to Amazon.com and search in the DVD section for "Phantom of the Opera". They have all the information you need on their site. 


	3. Two is a pair, three is a crowd

Disclaimer : I don't own any of the characters. They belong to Gaston Leroux. Alain Choletti and Gerard Carriere belong to Misters Yeston and Kopit.  
  
*Warning* Raoul bashing.  
  
  
  
Christine's point of view  
  
I kept staring at the dress like some dull-witted child, incapable of understanding the situation I was in. He actually meant to take me back above, I thought. He would either follow me like my shadow, or give me the opportunity to run away, but somehow I did not think I would try to flee again. I felt strangely tired and found it difficult to breathe, as though something was constricting my chest. At first I thought my corset must be too tight, but I waved that theory aside. It was sadness that was crushing me, sadness and regret. The sound of the piano interrupted my musings. Erik was playing Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata, a piece that fitted him exceptionally well. I abandoned the couch to get closer to his music, leaning on the door to his chamber. There was something so passionate, so natural in his playing that it seemed he was born to be a musician and nothing else. Oh Erik, I am so sorry for what happened, you did not deserve to be betrayed in such a fashion. I repaid your generosity with greed, and yet you forgave me. I sank to the floor, letting the music float through me. My head resting against the door frame, tears forming at the corners of my eyes, I caressed the carved oak with a trembling hand. The music stopped after a while, but I failed to notice the approaching footsteps and the opening door until I saw two feet stopping next to me. I looked up and found myself staring into Erik's questioning eyes. My cheeks flared with embarrassment and I hastily averted my gaze. How silly I must have looked, sitting at his door like some eavesdropping child! He knelt down and his hand gently cupped my chin, forcing me to meet his eye. " Why don't you come in my dear? You will only catch a cold on the floor. There is an armchair in the room that is quite comfortable, unless you would rather stay where you are…" He stated matter-of-factly. My face went even redder and I turned away from him. Why did he have to tease me like that? "How did you know I was there?" I asked. He had the most unnerving ability of knowing everything that went on in his house. He simply smiled and invited me in, indicating I should sit on the armchair in the corner. I complied, not feeling like arguing with him. The whole situation amused him, the scoundrel. I could tell from the little smile hovering on his lips. I fought down an urge to snap some stinging remark, knowing it would only hurt his feelings, and it would be childish on my part to do so. I contented myself by saying : "One could think you are not as dedicated to your art as you ought to be, Erik. You just allowed yourself to be distracted by an admirer". He mock-glared at me from his seat at the piano, a genuine smile on his lips. "Perhaps it is not an admirer that caught my attention, but a neglected pupil. Shall we resume our lessons?" he said, looking through music scores. I went to stand beside the piano, glad of this turn of event. Music was the balm to all the sores between us. It would help us forget the bitter moments we had shared these past two days. He selected "Céleste Aïda " and started to play. I eagerly lost myself to the music, it's beauty soothing my troubled spirit.  
  
  
  
Erik's point of view  
  
I left Christine alone in the drawing room and went to my own chamber. I put my costume away in a corner, carefully hiding it from view. Christine had entered this room without warning before, and I didn't want her to see it right away. In fact, she wouldn't know who was dressed in the long flowing crimson cloak until she danced with him. Her dear vicomte might just be able to guess, if he was not too busy with all his conquests. How Christine could even give him a second thought astonished me. Half the women in the chorus and corps de ballet had a likeness of him in a sliver pendant, and he had the nerve to proclaim he loved her! A remarkable privilege, being loved by the flighty vicomte de Chagny. Such a privilege in fact, that she had the obligation to love him as well. He wouldn't take no for an answer. I had seen the little scene he had made when she refused to go out with him one night. Arrogant, spoiled, ignorant aristocrat that he was. I hated him! I realized suddenly that I had begun pacing up and down my room, raving like a lunatic. I seated myself at the piano, and gazed at the scores laying upon it. Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata, what a delightful coincidence. My fingers caressed the keys effortlessly, letting the music dance around me. Beethoven, he had been a true genius, writing a whole symphony while incapable of hearing a single sound. Some of the greatest composers had had an awful childhood and a glamorous life. Perhaps I was destined to be the greatest of them all, my whole life being an endless torment. Something made me come back to the present, something near the door. There was no light coming from the other room, and yet I had left many lighted candles there. I strained my ears over the music and distinctly heard a sigh. Christine, I thought. She didn't even dare to walk into my room now, I must have scared her more badly than I had thought then. I made my way to the door and opened it. Christine was indeed behind the door, she was sitting on the floor in front of it in fact. The thought that she might have fallen down had she been leaning any more on the door when I opened made the corners of my mouth twitch. The only woman ever to fall at my feet. She looked up at me, embarrassment written all over her face. Suppressing a laugh, I said : "Why don't you come in my dear? You will only catch a cold on the floor. There is an armchair in the room that is quite comfortable, unless you would rather stay where you are..." Her face burned red, and she turned away. I knelt down next to her and tilted her face up. Her eyes flashed with indignation, but I found I was rather enjoying it. Such a display of character was not a common occurrence in her. "How did you know I was there?" she asked in an annoyed tone. I did not answer her, the urge to laugh almost ungovernable. What a feisty little creature she could be when teased. I invited her in and indicated the armchair in the corner. She sat down in a huff, her face still flushed with anger and embarrassment, perhaps even a little resentment. I noted that her limp was barely noticeable, it would be entirely gone for the ball. She broke in on my thoughts by remarking :"One could think you are not as dedicated to your art as you ought to be, Erik. You just allowed yourself to be distracted by an admirer". Oho, that was below the belt, Christine, I thought in amusement. Parroting my very own words to tell me off. I glared at her, but the smile plastered on my lips belied my true feelings, she could see that I was not serious. She had just said she admired me, maybe she didn't grasp the hidden meaning of her choice of words, but it did not escape me. " Perhaps it is not an admirer that caught my attention, but a neglected pupil. Shall we resume our lessons?" I said, willing to direct the subject to something less childish, although it would have been entertaining to continue with our little war. I searched through my music sheets, looking for a nice piece to work on. Anything but "Faust", now was not the time to work on that particular opera, not after that disaster on her premiere *. My choice finally settled on "Céleste Aïda", one of Verdi's finest works. Christine was already at my side, waiting for us to begin. We both needed to occupy our minds with something more constructive than dwelling on past disappointments and sorrows.  
  
  
  
Gerard Carriere's point of view (he finally has something to say!)  
  
I went back to Erik's house several times after leaving. I was deeply uneasy as to what he would do with the girl. I should have taken her away by force, she did not know what kind of a man she was dealing with. When I saw him carrying her, unconscious, to his house and wearing his black mask, I feared the worst, but I did not dare to ask him what had happened. I followed in silence, fearful of attracting his attention. My worst fears seemed to have been in vain, as I caught glimpses of Christine and Erik together from the other side of the lake *. Today, singing could be heard from the house. They made a fine duet, those two. With a sigh, I turned and left, hoping Erik would come to his senses and let the girl go.  
  
  
  
Two days later… (Erik and Christine went back to their music lessons, Raoul to his usual flirting, and Carriere to his meddling in other people's business)  
  
  
  
Christine's point of view  
  
Two days passed peacefully enough, either in musical bliss or in everyday activities. Erik would not let me see his outfit for the ball, and I found he was unusually excited. I hoped he had not come up with another sordid plan to get back at Carlotta. He had explained to me how I had come to lose my voice during the premiere, what he had done to punish Carlotta's crime (he laughed so much while he told me this that he had tears in his eyes) and scolded me for accepting a drink from a rival. His scolding was not really serious, but I knew that if I made that mistake again, Carlotta wouldn't be the only one to be punished. "Well, my dear, tonight is the is the night of the ball. I hope your ankle is better, I expect you will dance a great deal tonight…" He said then paused "If I might be so bold as to ask for the first two dances…" he finished shyly. The look in his eyes could have made me cry. He looked as though he was sure I would refuse, and was preparing to accept it with a display of indifference. I agreed to his request fervently, trying to bring back his cheerful mood. His eyes misted over, and he dropped to his knees, almost stuttering with delight. If anyone saw him, they would think I had just agreed to marry him! The ball only started at 20:00, so we had the best part of the afternoon to ourselves. We tried a few songs together, but Erik was too ecstatic to focus on his playing. He kept pacing the drawing room, incapable of remaining still for more than a minute. If he sat down, he got up a second later and resumed walking up and down. I smiled at him indulgently, such childlike eagerness was totally out of character for him. "Erik, if you don't stop going around in circles I will be quite dizzy in a minute". I said as I placed my hand on his arm. He stopped pacing and looked at me, his eyes shining with a light of their own. "You are right, of course. Perhaps you would care for a stroll through the woods?" he asked, but then a flash of pain darkened his eyes. We had not talked about the incident of the picnic since it had happened, as we were still both uneasy over it. I linked his arm with mine, and pulled him towards the front door. "A stroll around the lake would be fine" I said, hoping it would appease him. It seemed to work, for he smiled and led me to the shore. All signs of the destruction that had taken place two days ago were gone but for a few scratches on the statues that adorned the walls. We walked for a few hours, enjoying the cool air and the soft light. I leaned my head on Erik's shoulder as we walked, and he stopped abruptly. He was staring ahead at something I could not discern. I thought I saw a flash of white, but I couldn't be sure for Erik had turned around brusquely and was leading me away.  
  
  
  
Erik's point of view  
  
Time flew past during those two days at a dizzying speed. Had it been in my power to slow the passing of time, I would have done so gladly. Our music sessions were usually followed by my reading a book to her, or her telling me of her childhood. She tactfully avoided mentioning the vicomte in those stories, even though her years with him were probably the happiest ones she had lived. I strained to teach her to play chess, but she showed little interest in the game. I confess that what I really enjoyed was the frustrated confusion that would boil into indignation and even daring at my teasing. She had somehow found out I was ticklish, and shamelessly used that knowledge to have the last word in our conversations. She had asked to see my costume for the masquerade many times, out of genuine curiosity or just to humor me I did not know, but it didn't really matter to me. What mattered was the nagging little voice in my head urging me to formally ask for the first dance. I felt like a school boy, too shy to ask and yet unable to remain silent. The subject of the ball inevitably came up : "Well, my dear, tonight is the is the night of the ball. I hope your ankle is better, I expect you will dance a great deal tonight…" I paused, taking a deep breath for courage : " If I might be so bold as to ask for the first two dances…" I stammered, hoping I hadn't stuttered as much as I thought I had. The first two dances? Where had THAT come from? I looked at her expectantly, not knowing what to expect. She gazed at me, her eyes softened and she smiled, saying she would gladly dance with me. I fell to my knees, overcome with happiness and grinning like a perfect fool. I remember I said many things, but I couldn't remember what, nonsense, most likely. I positively felt a surge of joy washing over me like hot water, and I felt giddy and light-headed with this new, intoxicating sensation. There was a lot of time to spare before we had to make ourselves ready for the ball, but I could not focus on anything. I tried going back to music, but even Christine's angelic voice could not pacify me. I had to move, to do something. I paced around, trying to think of something to do, but no idea came. The thought of going early came to me, but it would spoil my surprise. I heard Christine's voice calling my name, and felt her hand resting on my arm. "Erik, if you don't stop going around in circles I will be quite dizzy in a minute". My face grew hot beneath the mask, how rude of me to ignore her like that. "You are right, of course. Perhaps you would care for a stroll through the woods?" That was the first thought that came to mind, but I felt like biting my tongue the minute I voiced it. The woods were the last place I wanted to see right now, and I was sure she felt the same. "A stroll around the lake would be fine" she suggested and linked her arm around mine, our shoulders almost touching. Glad to be spared further embarrassment, I led her outside and we strolled quietly around the lake. A wonderful moment, that would end only to let an even more wonderful one begin. The masked ball, there was one each year, that was a tradition, but I had not thought Choletti would still hold it. He had not respected most of the traditions of the opera, especially the ones where I was concerned. I caught a glimpse of something white out of the corner of my eye just as I felt Christine rest her head on my shoulder. I stared at the white spot, and saw Gerard hurrying away. So, you spy on me yet again, Gerard, I thought angrily. I turned around and led Christine back to the house. How dare he intrude on me like that! At least he must have been satisfied with seeing Christine alive and well, and being so close to me… I shook my head and glanced at the clock. 18:00, late enough to start and get ready for the ball. I turned to Christine, who looked at me with confusion in her eyes. She must have been wondering about my sudden change of attitude. "Oh dear, look at the time. I will take you back to your dressing room, so you can prepare for the masked ball. Go fetch your costume, I shall get the boat". I said and went to the lake once again. She hurried after me, and in too short a time for my liking she was back in her dressing room. "I will see you at the ball then my dear." I whispered before going back to get myself ready. I had a surprise for some of the guests…  
  
  
  
  
  
Author's note : Pfew! Longest chapter so far. I hope you appreciate my attempts at humor. Please tell me if they are funny or hopelessly boring. Ah well, the ball will be in the next chapter, promised! Much more Raoul bashing to come in later chapters.  
  
Many thanks to all those who have reviewed my fic. Thank you, Thank you, Thank you.  
  
* In the movie, Christine's premiere is a disaster. Carlotta gives her something to make her lose her voice just before she goes on stage. That is prelude to the fall of the chandelier.  
  
* The house on the lake is not hidden from view. Christine's room has windows that give on the lake. That is how Carriere manages to see what goes on inside the house. That does not make it any easier to reach the house though, just watch the movie and you'll understand my meaning.  
  
* In that version, there is no Raoul vicomte de Chagny, there is only the count Philippe. I think it is enough to hate Raoul, no need to hate his brother as well.  
  
To answer Raydias' question : In Leroux's version, Erik goes as the Red Death to the masked ball. All the interpretations with the masked ball feature Erik as Red Death. I don't know why, but I think it's cool. I know that the Red Death is a character of Edgar Allen Poe, but I don't know in which story it appears. The key to the mystery lies there! 


	4. The Fourth Musketeer

Disclaimer : I don't own any of the characters. They belong to Gaston Leroux. Alain Choletti and Gerard Carriere belong to Misters Yeston and Kopit. (perhaps I should change the phrasing for a bit of novelty…)  
  
  
  
Christine's point of view  
  
Erik was gone and I was quite alone in my dressing room. Everything was as I had left it, Marguerite's brown wig was still pooling on the floor. It was almost eerie to see that nothing had moved since I left three days ago. Didn't they come looking for me here? I remembered Raoul forcing his way into the room, calling my name, hoping I would answer him. It seemed so distant now, the hurried flight from the angry crowds, the journey through the cellars and the arrival at the house on the lake. A clock chimed in the distance, half past six, time to get ready for the ball. While I dressed I found myself thinking of what was to come that evening. I could run away now, but I had no desire to do so. It seemed disloyal just to think about it. I had betrayed Erik's trust once, I would not do it again. Erik's request puzzled me, he had asked for the first two dances, when it was customary to ask only for the first one, or the first waltz or something of that nature. His unusual request both flattered and intrigued me. Was there a specific reason for his asking for two dances? Even if there was not, I would know soon enough what his costume was. He had not given the smallest hint as to what it was, and I found my curiosity was wound up to breaking point by all his secrecy. If I knew him as well as I thought I did, he would be wearing something grand and yet in good taste, after all, he was always moving about in evening attire. I slipped the lovely white gown over my head and let it fall into place, a perfect fit, as was to be expected. How Erik knew my measurements was still a mystery, but if I resembled his mother as much as Mister Carriere had implied, there was a good chance I had the built as her. Images of the portrait of her hung in Erik's room floated through my mind as I fastened the buttons at the back of my dress. She must have been a wonderful woman, capable of looking upon Erik's face and smile. I had thought myself capable of doing it as well, but I could not. His face had been too much of a shock. How could any human being have such a face, and how could anyone not be startled by it? No imagination could conjure such an image, not even in the worst of nightmares. I shuddered, the shock I had received from his face was nothing next to the agony my words must have put him through. I was so sure I could look at him and not be repelled that I used the cruelest argument I could come up with : "If you love me, let me love you too". Those words must have been a greater torture than my fainting at the sight of him. The clock chimed seven times. Time went by so swiftly when my thoughts dwelled on Erik, it was as if he had the power to control the race of time. I sat down at my dresser and proceeded to arrange my hair into a tight bun, although Erik seemed to prefer when I let it down on my shoulders. Make-up was not a necessity, since the mask would cover my face, but it seemed preferable to conceal the pale shadows under my eyes. Raoul would very likely be there tonight, I thought with a sigh. I had scarcely given him a thought for two days, but now that I was free of Erik's presence, I could think of him clearly. Raoul had been a wonderful friend when we were children, but he had changed so much that I hardly recognized the darling boy who brought me back my scarf. He was nearly as jealous as Erik was, but the difference was that Erik never looked at other women, while Raoul spent the best part of his time flirting with all the girls in the company. I put down my brush with a sigh and looked at myself in the mirror. I knew what I had to do to solve this situation, three simple words were all it took to end the rivalry that had grown into enmity.  
  
  
  
Erik's point of view  
  
Once Christine was safely back to her dressing room, I hurried back down, wary of encountering Gerard. He had followed Christine and I since our departure from the house. He itched to ask what I had in mind, that was for certain, but I would not indulge his curiosity. I would not allow anyone to spoil my evening with Christine, even if it meant killing them. Relief washed over me when I reached the lake and found no trace of Gerard. Good, that way there would be no unpleasant confrontation, I thought. "Erik! Wait!" How could I have thought for a moment that Gerard would leave me alone? I turned to face him with a sigh, making it plain to see that his presence was not welcome. "Erik, what have you done with Christine?" he asked. Ah, of course, his only concern now was her, not me. "I have done nothing with her… I wish I had though.." I said mockingly, although it was the truth. "Erik! Do be serious, where is she?" he insisted. "Ahh, Gerard, don't be such a nag. She is up there, in her dressing room preparing for the ball, and if you don't mind, I have to get ready myself." I answered before turning back to the lake and jumping into the boat, eager to distance myself from him. "What are you talking about? Surely you don't mean to actually go to the ball?" he exclaimed incredulously. The look on his face was priceless, astonishment mingling with suspicion and disbelief. "Why don't you go and ask Christine yourself? I am sure it will be her pleasure to answer your questions, but be sure to knock before entering, she is not used to being intruded on". That silenced him, about time. As good a fellow as he was, he could be infuriating at times. I rowed my way back with haste, not keen on wasting anymore time on pointless arguments with the former manager. I moored the boat and hurried to my room. My costume was just a little eye-opener for the guests, the real surprise was much more substantial, but still harmless. Champagne would be flowing in endless torrents that night. Most guests would be in no state to think straight after the first hour, and that gave me a golden opportunity to play one more trick on that detestable Carlotta. The fleas in her wig and the stuck glass had been amusing, but tonight, I was planning something a bit more daring. The wonders one could do with a little knowledge of chemicals and make-up… I chuckled to myself, it was time to get on with the show. I removed The Red Death costume from it's box and held it up, examining it's crimson splendor. It was outrageously flashy and yet there was something positively regal to it. I looked at the gold lettering on the cloak : Do not touch me. I am Red Death stalking abroad. How dramatic, I sneered. The skull mask would be a nice complement to the disguise. There was a chance that it would upset Christine to dance with such a character… but with luck it would at least make the dear vicomte run for his life. I threw back my head and indulged in a good long laugh, the image of a white- faced vicomte running to hide in his admirers' skirts dancing in my head.  
  
  
  
Christine's point of view  
  
At a quarter past eight, I made my way down to the foyer that was already filling with people in bright costumes. I went to a corner and leaned my back against the wall. The rush of arrivals would not start until nine or nine thirty, and the dance at ten. Erik was not likely to make his entrance before that time, so I entertained myself by watching the procession of masks and costumes. A general accompanied by a ballerina, that must have been Meg Giry and one of the opera's rich patron; a maharaja with a milk- maid, what a strange couple; Dartagnan surrounded by Juliet, Pandora, Marie- Antoinette and some other princess… They were talking and laughing together like good friends. A young man who had taken his sisters to the ball with him, I assumed. I recognized the girl disguised as Marie-Antoinette, she was a member of the chorus. She whispered something in the young man's ear, and he bellowed with laughter, his voice sounding very familiar. I nearly jumped out of my skin as I realized who it was : that musketeer was Raoul! Surrounded by his little circle of conquests, I noted. There was a bitter taste in my mouth, he didn't seem so worried about my fate now, he had simply brushed all thoughts of me aside and was getting on with his life as if I had never existed. The nerve of him! After all his promises and pretty words, he simply forgot me when I was no longer within his reach. I had the sudden urge to throw something at him, if only to remove that cocky smile from his mouth. I found myself longing for Erik with desperate urgency. It was only nine, he would not show up for at least another half hour. It was impossible to breathe in that crowded space, I needed some fresh air to clear my head. I stormed out of the room before I did something stupid. The rotunda was packed with people descending from their carriages, but I managed to find a quiet little spot to calm down my anger. Although it was late summer, the air was quite cool outside, and I welcomed the breeze that played with my hair. I removed my mask, relishing the feeling of cold air against my face. Somebody tapped me on the shoulder, and I turned cold with apprehension, thinking it might be Raoul. It was Gerard Carriere. I released the breath I had been holding in relief, the sight of him was always a welcome one. He spoke in a worried tone : "Mademoiselle Daaé, are you alright?" What an affable man, I thought. "Don't worry Monsieur Carriere, I am well, as you can see." I replied. He seemed relived at this. Had he expected Erik to hurt me? "I am glad to see that Erik has released you, but you should leave now, before he takes you down below again." He was tugging at my arm gently as he said this, clearly concerned about my safety. "I cannot go, Monsieur Carriere, I promised Erik I would dance with him." Monsieur Carriere's eyebrows shot up at this. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't this! I giggled, amused that he seemed so shocked at my words. "Don't worry, Monsieur Carriere, everything will be fine. Erik will never harm me, he has proved it. Now, if you please, I must go back inside, it is rather chilly hear." I said replacing my mask. "Wait, Mademoi…" he began. "I have seen his face." I said simply before hurrying inside, leaving a rather confused Monsieur Carriere behind me.  
  
  
  
Gerard Carriere's point of view  
  
I managed to catch with Erik when he returned to the lakeside, alone. It seemed he had taken the girl back above, where she belonged, but with him, there was no way to be sure. I called him before he could get away : " Erik! Wait!" He stopped in his stride and turned to me, his eyes glaring daggers at me. "Erik, what have you done with Christine?" I asked without preamble, hoping to startle him into a direct answer. I was sorely disappointed : "I have done nothing with her… I wish I had though..". Couldn't he give a straight answer at least once in his life? "Erik! Do be serious, where is she?" I asked again, indignation flaring in my voice. "Ahh, Gerard, don't be such a nag. She is up there, in her dressing room preparing for the ball, and if you don't mind, I have to get ready myself." He replied, jumping into his boat. I was stumped. Get ready for what? What was all this about? "What are you talking about? Surely you don't mean to actually go to the ball?" That was a stupid question. When Erik had something in mind, there was nothing to be done to make him change his mind. "Why don't you go and ask Christine yourself? I am sure it will be her pleasure to answer your questions, but be sure to knock before entering, she is not used to being intruded on" he said casually before rowing off into darkness. I waited until I saw him disappear into his house, then left, having done all I could down here. What was this nonsense about the ball? How could he possibly believe that Christine would not run away the minute she was out of the catacombs? It would be helpful indeed to have her version of that story, for I was absolutely clueless as to what was going on. I went back to the surface and looked for Christine's room. It was somewhere in a generally deserted area of the opera house, way beyond the stage. Humming could be heard through the door, so she was there. I thought of knocking, but it occurred to me that she might want to be left alone at the moment. I would wait until she came out, or rather, I would have done so had it not been for Choletti. He showed up twenty minutes after I had started my vigil at Christine's door, and insisted that I go with him so he could show all he had planned to make the evening a success. At nine I excused myself by saying I had to go home and don my costume for the masquerade. Thank God he let me off and went on search of his wife then. I dashed to Christine's dressing room as soon as he was out of sight, only to find that she was gone. That was a relief, for now she was out of Erik's reach, for the moment. I made my way to the rotunda to fetch my carriage and head home, but just as I reached the steps I saw Christine leaning on the wall, dressed in a beautiful white gown and holding a mask in her hands. She looked troubled. I approached her and tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around and her whole face lit up when she recognized me, sweet child. "Mademoiselle Daaé, are you alright?" I asked worriedly. Just because she seemed alright didn't mean she was alright. "Don't worry Monsieur Carriere, I am well, as you can see." She answered, a slight smile illuminating her tired face. "I am glad to see that Erik has released you, but you should leave now, before he takes you down below again." I urged her. It would do her no good to stay around here. "I cannot go, Monsieur Carriere, I promised Erik I would dance with him." She what? If anything that was even more confusing than the conversation I had had with Erik a few hours earlier. She laughed lightly, obviously finding by my bemused expression funny. "Don't worry, Monsieur Carriere, everything will be fine. Erik will never harm me, he has proved it. Now, if you please, I must go back inside, it is rather chilly hear." She said as she put on her mask and turned to go. "Wait, Mademoi…" I started to say, but she cut me off : "I have seen his face." She said as an explanation before disappearing from view. She had seen him, and yet she did not run away. Could it be that I had been mistaken about them? I hoped so, it would make me very happy to see Erik loved and accepted by someone else than I. Was that not what all fathers wished for their sons? *  
  
  
  
Erik's point of view  
  
My little packet was ready, all I had left to do was to become the Red Death. I glanced at my watch and saw with pleasure that it was nine fifteen. I would be just in time for the beginning of the dance, and the first two would be with Christine, not that I had any intention of dancing with another woman. I put on the deep red tunic, pleased to see that it fitted perfectly. That tailor certainly knew how to handle his needles. I draped the velvet cloak across my shoulders, feeling like a god from the hells about to come up to the mortals realm. I removed my white mask and put on the fake skull, then placed the plumed hat on my head. I would cause quite a sensation tonight, I sneered. Picking up the small leather pouch I had left on the table, I strode to the lake. Hades had to cross the Styx before joining the foolish mortals above, and like Hades, I was going to see my love. There were too many people to use the main secret passages, someone was bound to see them open. The one in box five would have to do, besides, even if there were someone in the auditorium, I would be invisible among the red velvet adorning the box. I reached the hollow column in record time, and entered the box with familiar ease. There wasn't a soul in the abandoned auditorium. no couples in hiding seeking refuge from prying eyes, yet. It happened each year, some pairs would drink too much and ended up in one of the boxes for a little privacy. No doubt the vicomte would try that with one of those airheads he liked so much. He had better keep to those silly girls and not try to make a move on Christine, or he would be sorry, just like Carlotta would be by midnight. I snickered at the thought. I wonder what she will look like with pink hair? Just a little spray of my magic powder, and she would once again be the evening's entertainment. I took out my watch and looked at the time : 9:45. Better to hurry now, the dance started in fifteen minutes, and the lovely Colombine was waiting for her partner. The foyer was full, as was to be expected, and it took me some time before I could locate Christine from my vantage point on the stairs. She was standing by herself in a corner, her head moving from side to side, she was looking for me. Well, it was rude to make a lady wait, I thought. I was descending the stairs when the music for the first dance started to play, then something infuriating happened. A man dressed as a musketeer had approached Christine, no doubt to invite her. The vicomte, I thought angrily. It had to be him, judging from the amount of women glaring at Christine. He was leading her, or rather pulling her, onto the dance when I reached them. "Raoul, I told you I reserved this dance for someone else! Let me go!" she was saying over and over. I grabbed the boy's wrist and pushed him away. "Excuse me, I believe this lady has kept this dance for me." I snarled before moving away to spin Christine around the dance floor. "Erik?" she asked nervously. I winked at her in response and picked up the pace to follow the music. She smiled and followed my lead. "This is very awkward" she said. "What is?" I asked, afraid that my appearance or my behavior towards the vicomte had somehow upset her. Her answer dispelled all my worries. " Dartagnan has just lost a battle and doesn't come seeking revenge." She said thoughtfully. I laughed, glad to see that she didn't seem to care about what happened to the vicomte. That was good, for I had something in store for him.  
  
  
  
Author's note : Well, the show will go on in the next part. I am just getting to the funny part. I hope you still enjoy the story. Thanks to my faithful readers for reviewing each chapter. (^_^)  
  
* In the movie, Carriere is Erik's father. Sorry to give that away, but it will be of importance in future chapters. 


	5. Masked Ball : suite

Disclaimer : I don't own any of the characters, they belong to Gaston Leroux. Alain Choletti and Gerard Carriere belong to Misters Yeston and Kopit. I am no making money out of this, it is purely for entertainment.  
  
Warning Severe Raoul Bashing  
  
  
  
Christine's point of view  
  
I left Monsieur Carriere behind me and returned to the ball room. The dance was about to start, and there was still no sign of Erik. He should have made his presence known to me by now, I thought. My thoughts were brutally interrupted by an urgent tug at my arm. I looked up, half-expecting to see Erik, and was unpleasantly surprised. It was Raoul who was pulling t my arm so rudely. I should have known that Erik would never treat me in such a fashion. I frowned behind my mask as Raoul started to pull me on the dance floor. I resisted as best as I could, but he would not listen to my protests : " Raoul, I told you I reserved this dance for someone else! Let me go!" He simply laughed and pulled harder, bruising my flesh with his vicious grip. Something red flashed before my eyes and before I could fully register Raoul sprawled on the floor I was pulled away gently, and I heard an angry voice utter : " Excuse me, I believe this lady has kept this dance for me." I stared in bewilderment at the figure that was stirring me away ; bright crimson attire, a death's head and a plumed hat. "Erik?" I said uneasily, slightly shocked by the morbid sight before my eyes. The man simply winked in response, and I smiled, feeling the uneasiness being melted by the happiness that submerged me. He was finally here, everything would be fine now. He quickened his step to keep in rhythm, and I gladly followed suit. A silly idea suddenly wormed its way into my head. "This is very awkward." I murmured. "What is?" Erik asked, an edge of worry to his voice. "Dartagnan has just lost a battle and doesn't come seeking revenge." I replied, wondering if Raoul would really leave it at that.  
  
I had a feeling he would not. Erik laughed heartily, amusement dancing in his eyes. I smiled shyly and rested my head on his shoulder while we waltzed. It was such a pleasant feeling to know that he would protect me from all that would wish me harm, but it was not so pleasant to know what he did to those who did me harm. I remembered all the nasty episodes he had put Carlotta through and had to fight down an urge to giggle. He had done no real harm, for Carlotta was strutting around with her husband, proudly showing off her expensive jewelry. All too soon, the waltz came to an end and us to a stop. I reluctantly disentangled myself from Erik's arms and looked around. There were a few minutes between each dance, giving the dancers the time to get on or off the dance floor. I cringed when I saw an obviously furious musketeer make his way towards us. Oh please Raoul, I pleaded silently, do not make a scene now. I had hoped in vain, of course, for the instant he reached me he gave a violent shove at Erik, who barely moved an inch. I could only watch in shame as Raoul kept pushing Erik, and as Erik grew angrier than I had ever seen him. They were starting to shout at each other, and Raoul was trying to rip the mask off Erik's face. I could never thank Monsieur Carriere enough for his intervention a second before it was too late. He had placed himself between the two men, and was keeping them at arms length, trying to calm them down.  
  
"Enough, gentlemen, enough!" he was shouting. Erik fell silent and regained his composure, but some of the guests had to pull Raoul away and bring him outside to calm him down. There was an awkward pause as the guests all stared at the hysterical young man being dragged away. I was grateful for the mask, for I felt my cheeks burning with embarrassment at what had just happened. So much for being a well-bred gentleman, Raoul, I thought somberly. The music came back on cue, and I was glad of the respite it gave me. I followed Erik's gliding moves across the floor, sighing in relief. " It would seem Dartagnan came seeking revenge, after all." Erik said bitterly. The whole affair had put him in a brooding mood, and I hardly blamed him. We remained in silence for the rest of the dance, when it was over, I offered to go somewhere where we could have some peace. He nodded and draped his cloak over my shoulders and we disappeared from the crowd, unnoticed.  
  
  
  
Erik's point of view  
  
Heaven, that was where I was right now, heaven. Christine had put her head on my shoulder, and I relished the contact, however chaste it was. The evening could hardly be any better, so it could only get worse, the detestable part of my brain remarked. I pushed those unhappy thoughts away, determined to savor each second of the few hours I would spend with Christine that night. The minutes flew by with increased speed, as they tended to do in such instants. Christine pulled away from me, her hands pushing against my chest. Her gaze wandered about, her eyes not completely focused. I looked at her tenderly, feeling like kissing her lovely cheek, but that was not possible, for my mouth was hidden as was he cheek. Her eyes narrowed behind the mask, and I followed her gaze to see that despicable young man advancing towards us. I knew it could only get worse, the nasty voice chanted over and over before it was silenced by a violent push on my arm. I glared at the boy, feeling my pulse race. How dare he touch me! He pushed me again, and kept doing so until I felt like strangling him on the spot, consequences be damned. He was shouting and trying to remove my mask now, and I realized I was shouting right back. It would have ended up in a blood bath if Gerard had not intervened. Dear Gerard, always there to clean up the messed I had caused, I thought sadly.  
  
He separated and held us away from the other, calling for quiet. " Enough, gentlemen, enough!" he was shouting. I took a hold of myself and calmed down, watching with contempt as the vicomte tried in vain to escape Gerard's grasp and pounce back on me. I stepped back so Gerard could use both his hands to hold the boy down. Some men came to Gerard's rescue by grabbing the boy by his arms and struggling to bring him outside. I managed to hold back my urge to laugh when more men came and took the boy's legs, picking him of the floor and carrying him away. That serves you right, little man, I sneered. I went back to Christine who was looking at the retreating form of the vicomte with something like resentment in her eyes. The orchestra began the second dance, and I eagerly took Christine's hands to twirl her about. " It would seem Dartagnan came seeking revenge, after all." I remarked, trying to hold back the venom that had formed in my throat. Christine's only reply was a sigh, and we kept dancing until the music stopped. She offered to go someplace more private, and I agreed wholeheartedly. There seemed to be no air in the room all of sudden. I threw my cloak about her shoulders and led her away. We would have peace in her dressing room, that part of the opera house was deserted at this hour. Only once I had locked the door behind us did I allow myself to sigh tiredly. How little it took to turn a dream into a nightmare. Christine had sat on the little bed in the corner and removed her mask. " The unmasking is not supposed to take place before midnight, my dear." I attempted to tease her, but I failed miserably. She half-sat, half-lied on the bed and rested her head on the pillow, closing her eyes with a sigh. " I feel so tired." She complained.  
  
The vicomte's little display earlier had obviously bothered her. I sat down beside her, placing a hand on the small of her back and moving it in concentric circles. A soft sigh testified of her approval as I increased the pressure slightly. A little break before the show was not a repulsive prospect, I mused. Christine turned around unexpectedly and I withdrew my hand hastily to avoid it being caught under her back, but she took it and placed it on her stomach, smiling at me shyly. I obeyed her silent request and rubbed her flat stomach, the palm of my hand tingling against the fabric of her dress. It was pure torture to refrain from going up or down, but I found the sensation was not unwelcome. Her eyes were half closed in contentment, her hand still guiding mine so it would not go astray. Oh so slowly, her hand snaked up my arm, pausing at my elbow to give a gentle squeeze, then reaching up to my shoulder and pulling me down. It was a good thing that mask covered my whole face, because otherwise I might have given in on the impulse to kiss her beautiful throat. Both her hands were massaging my neck now, her fingers running through my hair and pulling me closer. She lifted her head and whispered in my ear : " I think we should leave it at that for now, Erik." Her breathing was ragged and her voice strained. I struggled to stand up, my body refusing to move away from hers. It required all my self-restraint to finally distance myself from her, and I was out of breath myself when I succeeded. "You are quite right, Christine, we should leave it at that." I gasped before storming out of the room. It was time to get back to business, I realized as I glanced at the clock, but the memory of her soft skin against mine would not be dismissed so easily.  
  
  
  
Gerard Carriere's point of view  
  
I would have appreciated greatly to have more time by myself to ponder Christine's last words to me. She had seen his face, and she refused to run away. Perhaps Erik was closer to the truth when he said she would learn to love him in time. I was entirely lost in thoughts of Erik, Christine and Raoul when I heard a commotion coming from the ball room. I rushed to the place in alarm, convinced that only Erik could cause such a ruckus. I was proved half right when I arrived in the room. A young man dressed as Dartagnan, which I recognised as Raoul de Chagny, was yelling at a man dressed in red, which I guessed was Erik, seeing Christine standing next to him. The vicomte was virtually at Erik's throat, for he was now trying to snatch away the skull-like mask. I cut my way through the crowd and placed myself between them, grabbing them by their shirt fronts and holding them well away from each other. "Enough, gentlemen, enough!" I exclaimed angrily when I saw that Raoul was not even listening to me.  
  
Erik said nothing and pulled away, leaving me to quiet the vicomte's tantrum. Some people came to my aid when Raoul refused to calm down, and we had to carry him outside to stop the commotion. Raoul was a charming young man, but when he was denied what he wanted, he became absolutely impossible to live with. I accompanied him outside and took him to the stables, where I sat him on the ground and emptied a bucket of water on his head. This only infuriated him further, and he started to hurl insults at me. " You just made me look like a fool in front of all Paris!" he shouted indignantly. " You made a fool of yourself well without my help, young man! And if I should hear that you are tormenting that poor girl again, well you can be sure everyone will find out about how the vicomte de Chagny flees his responsibilities! " I screamed, not fully grasping what I had said until it was too late. Raoul was staring at me with wide eyes, disbelief painted on his face. " You wouldn't dare, Gerard. You wouldn't do that to a friend?" he asked weakly. " We shall see." Was all I said before leaving him dripping with shock and water.  
  
  
  
Christine's point of view  
  
Erik brought me to my dressing room and locked the door. It was a relief to be alone with him, far away from the crowd and the people sneaking glances in our direction, wondering what the commotion had been all about. I took off my mask and sat on my bed, feeling suddenly exhausted. " The unmasking is not supposed to take place before midnight, my dear." Erik teased, but I did not feel like playing mind games. " I feel so tired." I sighed as I lied down on the bed. I felt Erik sitting down besides me and putting a hand to my back. He gave me a gentle back rub, his hand moving in circles. I sighed happily, his touch was a comfort I welcomed with open arms. I turned to lie on my back, not, taking Erik's hand and holding it to my belly. He resumed his soft caresses and I gave a satisfied sigh. I could get used to this, I thought. My hand left his to crawl up his arm, feeling the firm muscles under the shirt. I reached his shoulder and pulled, forcing him closer. The feel of his hot breath on my throat, the silky softness of his hair, the warm skin of his neck were intoxicating sensations. I could not think clearly, all my mind was absorbed by the new feelings I was experiencing. I raised my head to Erik's ear and whispered : " I think we should leave it at that for now, Erik." I was still lucid enough to know that if I didn't put a stop to it, it would go farther than I was ready to. "You are quite right, Christine, we should leave it at that." Erik agreed, but I could see he was disappointed. He got up slowly, as though with difficulty, and left the room in a hurry.  
  
I sat at my dresser and looked at my reflection, my cheeks were bright red and my eyes looked unusually bright. I replaced my mask with clumsy fingers before going back to the masquerade. A glass of champagne would probably do me good, I thought. The rotunda was crowded, as I had anticipated. Ten o'clock, the excessive amount of alcohol had not yet taken it's toll on the guests as it would have at eleven, so it was still safe for me to wander alone in the crowd. I looked around distractedly, searching for a sign of Erik, but there were no flowing red cloaks to be seen. I shrugged and sipped at my cup quietly. He was bound to do something that would attract everyone's attention, he was too much of a showman to miss such an opportunity. I went back to my original occupation, watching the crowd. Most costumes were ordinary or unoriginal, there was nothing sensational to be seen anywhere. For some reason, I got the feeling that there was something amiss in the room. Something that should be there was not. I frowned as I tried to pinpoint what it was. My eyes fell on a woman sporting a hat with peacock feathers, and I knew what was absent. Carlotta was nowhere to be seen, nor was monsieur Choletti. I was not exactly worried, but their absence could hardly be natural, they were supposed to be welcoming the guests and generally pester everyone.  
  
I was still puzzling over the manager and his wife's inexplicable absence when roars of laughter were heard from the entrance to the auditorium. I mingled among the curious to see what was happening, and was torn between shock and amusement when I saw what had caused such hilarity. Alain Choletti and Carlotta were on the stage, bound to a pillar belonging to the prison scene in Faust, and one wearing the other's costume. Carlotta's dress hung loosely from monsieur Choletti's small frame, while monsieur Choletti's admiral uniform was being ripped by Carlotta's fat body. I clasped my hand over my mouth, trying to muffle my giggling. Monsieur Choletti's face was covered in absurd make-up, while Carlotta was sporting a fake moustache and had pink streaks in her hair, but the "pièce de résistance" was Raoul bound with five or six girls I recognised as the ones he had come with, his face covered by lipstick marks. I made my way back stage discreetly, where I sunk to the floor and dissolved in helpless laughter. "Enjoying the show, are you my dear?" I looked up to see Erik towering above me. He was back in his regular clothes and mask, and I could see the mischievous smile on his lips. "Erik, what a perfectly terrible thing to do!" I chuckled. He reached down and took me in his arms, the amused smile fading away to reveal another I had never seen before. " I had not planned to leave early, but you and I must talk." He said hoarsely before taking me back to his underground domain.  
  
  
  
Author's notes : This chapter is a bit shorter than the last ones, but I suffer of a bit of writer's block. I have not corrected the part yet, but it will be done tomorrow, so please don't throw knives at me because of the mistakes. Thank you.  
  
Thanks to all those who have reviewed. 


	6. Return To The Underground

Disclaimer : I don't own any of the characters, they belong to Gaston Leroux. Alain Choletti and Gerard Carriere belong to Misters Yeston and Kopit. I am not making money out of this, it is purely for entertainment.  
  
  
  
Erik's point of view  
  
I stalked the corridors in a restless pace, still unnerved by what had happened in that  
  
dressing room. She had more restraint than I did, but again, she was still young, and  
  
she would never be forced to hold back her passions like I had been. It was unbearable  
  
to think that I could have kissed her, and the only barrier between her lips an mine had been  
  
that infernal mask. I should have been wearing another one under it, just in case some  
  
other fool might try to rip it off. I was hardly knowing where I was going, and I finally  
  
ended up on the stage. Still no not-so-sober couples looking for privacy, I noted. I took  
  
out my watch and looked at the time, 11:00. It was show-time! I retraced my steps and  
  
went in search of that fool Choletti and his cow of a wife, to find them kissing noisily in  
  
the abandoned prop room. If my face was a shocking sight, that was a disgusting one. I  
  
almost felt like forgetting about my prank and putting as much distance as I could  
  
between myself and that horrible display, but thought better of it. It would be amusing to  
  
see Carlotta's reaction to being interrupted by the evil Phantom.  
  
She did not disappoint me, the moment I showed myself she started to scream her  
  
indignation, then in fear as I approached the two of them, and finally squeaking rather  
  
pitifully as I fixed their clothes and make-up. The word "rat" was enough to make her  
  
exchange clothes with her husband's at lightning speed. A little sprinkle of my magic  
  
dust and her hair turned a shocking shade of pink. Perhaps she would stop putting all  
  
that grease in her hair after this, I sneered inwardly. The hard part was to drag them to  
  
the stage, where they were bound, litteraly, to be found. I finished my little installation, rather  
  
pleased with the result. I turned my back to them, ignoring the dark looks they were  
  
giving me. The silence was shattered by some high-pitched giggling and raucous  
  
laughter. I had not expected them to be found so quickly, they had not had enough time  
  
to suffer yet. I risked a glance in the auditorium to see who the newly arrived were,  
  
and felt burning anger mount like lava in my head. The vicomte!  
  
Surrounded by his precious little conquests! A pack of silly girls, as short of brain as of  
  
talent. Of all people, they had to find the manager. They would spoil the whole thing, of  
  
course, that pest of a boy was a good friend of Choletti's, and would free him in an  
  
instant. Oh no you don't ,boy, I thought as I watched him climb on the stage. You are  
  
joining them! I was so lost in furious anger that it was only after I was done that I was  
  
able to have a good look at the boy. He was wet through, his face covered in lipstick.  
  
The lipstick was easy to trace to it's source, but the water, that was another point. I left  
  
quickly, not keen on being caught on the scene of crime again. I returned to my home in  
  
order to change. I did not feel inclined to dance or do anything more at the ball, and so  
  
the Red Death outfit would go back in it's paper box. I changed into my usual evening  
  
attire, and made my way to box five through the secret passages.  
  
It would be the best vantage point to see how long it would take before Choletti and the  
  
vicomte were discovered. For once I was not the first one on the scene, someone had  
  
already found them when I returned and was calling the other party-goers to have a  
  
look. I watched with wicked pleasure as Choletti and Carlotta were being humiliated  
  
beyond belief. That would give them a lesson of humility, I mused. My gaze drifted to the  
  
people drawing closer to the stage to have a better look, and in the crowd of curious I  
  
spotted a white gown coupled with a black mask. Christine! She was watching the  
  
pathetic spectacle before her, that I was certain of, but I was not sure whether she liked  
  
it or not.  
  
Her shoulders began to shake, she clamped a hand over her mouth and supported  
  
herself against the wall. She couldn't be shocked to the point of being ill! I practically ran  
  
down the ladder inside the hollow column and dashed backstage. Christine was making  
  
her way towards me, so I hid behind a scenery and waited. She slid down on the floor,  
  
her back to the wall for support, and I felt a pang of guilt at seeing her like this. Then  
  
suddenly, she made choking sounds and I jumped out of my hiding place in alarm. I was  
  
but a few meters away from her when she burst out laughing. The crushing guilt  
  
evaporated to the sound of her laughter, and I sighed with relief. She had thought it  
  
funny, thank God. Eventually, her laughter died away, and I seized the opportunity to  
  
make my presence known to her. The sole of my shoe slapped the floor boards lightly,  
  
making just enough noise to attract her attention, and hers only. Her eyes widened in  
  
surprise, and her head turned slowly in my direction. It was rather amusing to see her  
  
gaze travel slowly from my shoes to my face, like a guilty child caught doing mischief.  
  
Was that a blush rising to her cheeks? "Enjoying the show ,my dear?" I asked lightly.  
  
"Erik, what a perfectly terrible thing to do!" she said, her reprimanding tone severely  
  
undermined by her chuckling. I don't know which part of me took over my actions then,  
  
but before I could repress my impulse I reached down and took her in my arms, my eyes  
  
staring deep into hers. "I had not planned to leave early, but you and I must talk". Where  
  
had that come from?  
  
  
  
Christine's point of view  
  
Erik took me back to his house through a different set of passages this time, for I didn't  
  
recognize my surroundings until we reached the lake. I'd have to ask him how many  
  
different ways there were of reaching his house, assuming that he would tell me. He  
  
liked to surprise me with novelties from time to time, I mused, not that that was my  
  
foremost concern. I was rather unsettled by his silence, and that unfamiliar gleam had  
  
not left his eyes yet. "Erik?" I called tentatively. He did not answer, but settled me gently  
  
in the boat and roared furiously across. I failed to see what could have made him angry.  
  
We reached the house on the lake in a matter of minutes, and Erik once again took me  
  
in his arms, carrying me to the drawing room, where he put me down slowly. He was  
  
slightly winded after our hurried journey, his eyes still aglow with fire. I took a step back  
  
from him, wondering if he was angry, but that didn't seem to be it. His left hand shot out  
  
like lightning, snatched my mask away and threw it to the floor while the right one slid  
  
around my waist and pulled me to him. "Come here, you" he growled. Shock paralized my brain, and I was left  
  
incapable of stringing two words of sense together. His free hand came to join the other  
  
on my back, pulling me closer still. His chin found it's way to my hair, my face being  
  
pressed to his throat by urgent hands. The sent of his cologne gave my befuddled mind  
  
the "coup de grace" as it overcame my senses. "I don't know if you are aware of this my  
  
dear, but you are the most heavenly creature ever to grace this earthly plane" he  
  
whipered throatily. I was too lost in a haze of warm, sweet sensations to fully register  
  
what he had said, but I sighed happily as my head came to rest on his shoulder for the  
  
second time that evening. His hands roamed my back freely, from my shoulders to the  
  
small of my back, which arched with delight under his gentle touch. My hands were  
  
mirroring his of their own accord, caressing the vast surface of his torso. We held each  
  
other a long time, relishing our closeness. His hand cupped the nape of my neck and  
  
massaged it tenderly, effectively turning what was left of my conscious mind to a puddle  
  
of pure delight. I slid my hands on his shoulders under his tail coat, pushing it down his  
  
arms. It was down to his elbows when : Dong, Dong, Dong, Dong...* God forsaken  
  
clock! * I thought angrily before my senses started coming back to me. With each chime  
  
I became more aware of what I had been doing and of what could have happened if the  
  
clock hadn't struck twelve. Color rose to my cheeks at an alarming speed, and I was  
  
certain that I looked like someone who had spent too much time in the sun. I turned to  
  
Erik uneasily, and saw that he too, was blushing and panting. He shrugged his tail coat  
  
off and threw it on the armrest of a nearby armchair before slumping in said armchair a  
  
moment later. He took several deep, slow breaths before speaking : " I think we should  
  
leave it at that, don't you think my dear?" he said, using the same expression I had  
  
earlier that evening. I nodded my agreement and headed back to my room, still shocked  
  
at what had happened, and strangely disappointed it had not gone any further. Still lost  
  
in thoughts of Erik, I changed into my nightgown and slipped under the comforter,  
  
certain that sleep would be elusive. I was right. Slumber simply refused to take over me,  
  
and I was left to turn the events of the evening in my head over and over again. Raoul  
  
forcing me onto the dance floor, Erik appearing out of nowhere to rescue me, the  
  
dances, the fight between Erik and Raoul, Monsieur Carriere's timely intervention, the  
  
ridiculous display of Carlotta and Choletti on the stage along with Raoul, the return to  
  
the house on the lake with Erik, and then... My face burned at the memory of the "talk"  
  
Erik and I had had. All in all, it had been nothing more than an embrace, but it was still  
  
more significant than any kiss I might have shared with Raoul. Strange really, how the  
  
most casual of touches between Erik and I could make time stand still. A splashing  
  
noise brought me back to the present, and I went to my window to see what was the  
  
source of it. * At first I could see nothing, but movement to the left caught my attention. I  
  
squinted through the darkness to get a glimpse of what was disturbing the water, and  
  
was dumbstruck when I saw what it was. Erik was standing on the shore, throwing little  
  
rocks in the water, making them ricochet across the surface. He threw another in, and I  
  
had to muffle a laugh when I heard him exclaim in anger as the stone shot straight to the  
  
bottom of the lake. Somehow, that didn't seem the kind of passtime that Erik would  
  
favor, music was everything to him. Then again, he probably didn't want to risk waking  
  
me up by playing the piano, let alone the organ. I crossed my arms and rested my chin  
  
on them, watching him send more stones across the lake, smiling when he missed a  
  
shot and muttered in frustration. He didn't seem likely to stop any time soon, and so I  
  
decided to join him, since sleep wasn't an option. I made my way to the shore as silently  
  
as possible, but it was not enough to escape his notice. He watched me as I  
  
approached, playing with a handful of throwing rocks. "May I enquire as to why you are  
  
walking around barefoot, my dear?" he asked, his tone that of reproach. "May I enquire  
  
as to why you are still up?" I asked back. The disapproval in his eyes mellowed  
  
somewhat, and he resumed his activity. "Did I wake you up?" he inquired politely. "No, I  
  
couldn't sleep." I replied simply, taking a stone from him and throwing it in the lake,  
  
where it sank without a single rebound. He chuckled and I pouted at him. "Give me a  
  
chance, I 'm out of practice." I said irritably, reaching out to take another of his stones.  
  
"Oh no you don't, dear. Good throwing rocks are rare down here and I don't want them  
  
to be wasted." He teased. I side-stepped him and made a grab for the rocks, but he kept  
  
them out of my reach again, amusement dancing in his eyes. As I made another  
  
attempt, he raised his hand above his head, where I couldn't possibly reach. "What are  
  
you going to do now?" he asked, the teasing tone more obvious than ever. I frowned  
  
at him : "It's not fair, you're taller than I am!" I exclaimed. "You can't blame me for taking  
  
advantage of my opponent's weakness" he replied casually, his eyes twinkling. An  
  
impish voice suddenly brought me the solution to my problem. I made another futile grab  
  
at his arm with one hand, while the other found the tender spot on the side, just below  
  
the ribs, and gave it quick squeeze. The reaction was immediate, Erik bent over in two  
  
with a yelp, dropping his stones to the ground. I hurriedly scooped up one and hel it up  
  
in tirumph. Erik gave me a look full of resentment : "Tickling is not fair!" he growled.  
  
" You can't blame me for taking advantage of my opponent's weakness" I chanted back,  
  
laughing when he grumbled something about women fighting dirty. He straightened up,  
  
tugging at his waistcoat and smoothing his shirt back in place. He pulled out his pocket  
  
watch, glanced at it and gave me a disapproving look. "It is two int he morning, you  
  
should go and get some rest now." He stated. "Yes sir!" I said, giving a mock salute  
  
before turning my back to him. "Oh! Before I forget" I said, turning to him again. I threw  
  
the rock I had been holding, and watched with satisfaction as it made five ricochets  
  
across the water before sinking. I stuck my tongue out at Erik who was watching me  
  
solemnly, then returned to my room, head held high in exagerated dignity. I allowed  
  
myself a giggle when I heard Erik mutter behind me. I'd had the last word this time.  
  
  
  
Erik's point of view  
  
I stared at Christine's retreating form torn between of amusment and annoyance. The  
  
sly little thing had once again resorted to that dirty little tactic of hers to get her way.  
  
There was a definitive spring in her step after she managed to make that stone ricochet  
  
on the water. It was just as well, had she failed I would probably have fallen victim to  
  
another merciless bout of tickling at her hands. After a few minutes I returned to the  
  
peace of my home, longing for the comfort of a stiff brandy and a good book. I sipped  
  
my drink slowly while browsing through my extansive library, looking for something that  
  
would keep my mind off Christine for a while.  
  
  
  
  
  
Author's note :  
  
Whew! Sorry for the delay, and sorry to give such a short chapter. My writer's block is  
  
slowly going away, so I should be able to finish this during the summer, but I can't make  
  
any promises. Thanks for all the great reviews!  
  
* In the movie, Christine's room has windows that give on the lake. 


	7. Hide and Seek

Dislcaimer : I do not own any of the following, it all belongs to Gaston Leroux. Gerard Carriere, Inspector Ledoux and Alain Choletti belong to Misters Yeston and Kopit. I make no money out of this, it is only for entertainment.  
  
Author's note :Woohoo! My Creativity Tank (CT) is full, and I'm back to write the end of this story! Not much of Erik or Christine in this chapter. I'm making a little trip into the mind of our *cough* dear *cough, cough* vicomte de Chagny. *choke* We also see Inspector Ledoux for the first time. (played by Jean-Pierre Cassel, fantastic actor, and charming character)  
  
Raoul's point of view.  
  
Damn Gerard, damn that freak! Damn them both! I wouldn't let them get away with such humiliation. They would pay one way or the other. I returned to my estate after that dreadful  
  
masked ball, took a bath, put on dry clothes and made my way to the police station. Ledoux would have to listen to me after what had happened that night. Poor Christine would never have  
  
rejected me in such a fashion. That masked fiend must have bewitched her in some way, or coerced her into avoiding me, there was no other logical explanation. And Gerard! How could he  
  
possibly defend that monster? The carriage stopped before the police station, and I stormed in looking for Ledoux. He was sitting behind his desk, listening to an irrate Choletti telling him the  
  
same story I was about to tell. Once Choletti had said his piece, I started on mine, and Ledoux listened impassively for the most part, except for the episode of the stage, where the man had the  
  
nerve to let his mouth twitch. How could he possibly think this abomination funny? I snarled at him as I asked what he intended to do about it. "Monsieur le vicomte, please calm yourself. We  
  
will do everything in our power to stopd this creature from bothering us all further." He said placidly. The three of us spent most of the night working on a plan to rid us of that pest, finally  
  
settling on using Christine as bait, preferably without her knowing. That madman could frighten her into confessing her intent. I left the station feeling much better, thoughts of revenge being a  
  
satisfied smile to my lips.  
  
Inspector Ledoux's point of view.  
  
I endured Monsieur Choletti's tirade, controling my laughter as best as I could. Truth be told, I didn't think the phantom's prank at the ball was all that terrible compared to what he had done in  
  
the past. Things that could have been avoided if Choletti had listened to common sense instead of his own foolish pride. I privately agreed with the phantom about Carlotta's voice, it was horrible.  
  
The same held true for the woman in general. However, the phantom had killed two of my men, kidnapped a young singer, and injured many people by cutting down that chandelier. To think it  
  
would not have happened had Gerard still been the manager of the opera house. A commotion outside my office brought me back to Choletti's ranting about his humiliation and to my office  
  
door flying open, revealing a fuming vicomte de Chagny. Here we go again, I thought sadly. I was right, as soon as Choletti stopped speaking, the vicomte launched into a retelling of the same  
  
events, with a slight variation. I could not prevent a smile from escaping when I heard about his being bound on the stage with all those girls, unfortunately he noticed it, and that infuriated him  
  
to no end. "Monsieur le vicomte, please calm yourself. We will do everything in our power to stopd this creature from bothering us all further " I promised. I honestly didn't care if the  
  
phantom played tricks on Choletti and his wife, but I could not ignore the danger mademoiselle Daae was in. We decided on a plan to lure the phantom out of his hiding place and dispose of  
  
him. The vicomte suggested that the best way to do that was to use mademoiselle Daae as a bait, without telling her if that was possible. I agreed reluctantly. Whether mademoiselle Daae was  
  
coerced or willing to be with the phantom, she was not responsible for his actions, and in no way deserved to be treated in such a fashion. I would go and see Gerard with this, he knew more about  
  
the phantom than he cared to admit.  
  
Gerard Carriere's point of view  
  
It was with weary resignation that I left the opera house to return to my home. Erik's prank had been harmless, and amusing, but it had sealed Choletti's resolve to eliminate the phantom, not to  
  
mention how Raoul had reacted. It was bad enough that I had soaked him through with icy water, but to end up on display like this was the "coup de grâce". He would not attempt anything against  
  
me, not with me knowing his dirty little secret. His reputation would be ruined if it came to ears of the tout Paris, and the newspapers would have a field day. It eased my mind greatly that  
  
Christine had chosen Erik, at least with him she would be in no danger of such a humiliating experience. I still remember that day three years ago, and i wish I could forget it. He was in the  
  
prop room with two of his friends... and Loraine. Poor Loraine, forced into "entertaining" the young vicomte and his friends, then abandonned like something filthy and unwanted. The young  
  
men were never allowed back into my opera house, but Raoul made me promise never to tell anyone. He bought my silence, I'm ashamed to confess it, but without his aid the opera house  
  
would have become a ruin. He refused to help Loraine when she returned to him, with child. This revolted me so that I took on myself to help the poor girl, but it was in vain. She died of  
  
consumption a few months later, taking the unborn child with her. I shook my head to clear it, realizing that I was standing in front of my door, key in hand. I went in, determined not to let  
  
these dark thoughts haunt me tonight. It seemed that fate had no intention of letting me dwell on them anyway. I saw carriage lights coming down the lane, and I went to the window to see who it  
  
was. It was Inspector Ledoux.  
  
Inspector Ledoux's point of view  
  
My relief knew no bounds when Choletti and the vicomte left my office. Working so late in the night was bad enough as it was, but having to sit through endless rants about public humiliations  
  
and insane monsters was torture. I left the lieutenant in charge of the place, wanting to pay a visit at Gerard's place. Choletti had informed me that he had attended the ball, and there was a good  
  
chance that he was still up. I took my carriage and made my way at a comfortable pace. Gerard was no morning bird, he liked to stay up long after dark. Even though he was no longer manager,  
  
the employees of the opera house had blind faith in him, and it would be best to have him on place when we set the plan into action. Gerard's house came into view, a charming little place,  
  
hidden from the road by a oak trees. I saw movement in the window, he had seen me coming. By the time I had my horse safely tethered to a nearby tree, he was on the doorstep, waiting for me.  
  
Such courtesy I could never expect from Choletti or de Chagny. Once we were comfortably seated in his drawing room, I got straight to the object of my visit.  
  
L- So, Gerard, tell me about the phantom.  
  
G- You know as much as I do.  
  
L- I don't think so, I think you know much more than any of us do.  
  
G- If there was anything I could do to help, I would.  
  
L- Gerard, you must understand that people have been hurt, some killed, by the phantom. If you can do anything to stop this, you must do it. G- ..................................................I will help in any way I can.  
  
L- Thank you Gerard. We have a plan of sorts. Monsieur de Chagny suggested that we use mademoiselle Daae as bait to force the phantom out of his hiding place. After the disaster of her  
  
debut, she will not refuse a second chance to prove herself, and the phantom is sure to attend, his kidnapping the girl proves that he has an interest in her. When he shows up, my men will take  
  
care of him. I want you to be at the opera when we do this, in a week from now. Will you help us?  
  
G- ...........Very well.  
  
We shook hands, and he saw me to the door.  
  
Gerard Carriere's point of view  
  
I watched the inspector go with a heavy heart. It was all decided then, they would kill Erik, and I was powerless to stop it. I could warn him, but if he decided to attend, there was no stopping him,  
  
and if I told the girl, she would refuse to perform, and that would anihilate her career. I hit the wall in frustration, I could cope with not being in complete control, but being helpless was  
  
unspeakably infuriating to me, a trait I had passed to Erik. I sat in my favorite armchair and let my head fall in my hands. There was nothing I could do to prevent this from happening.  
  
**********************************TWO DAYS LATER**********************************  
  
Christine's point of view  
  
I was reading "David Copperfield", by Charles Dickens in Erik's drawing room. Erik had left a few minutes ago to check on something, but when I asked he only said that it was nothing of  
  
importance. While it was not uncommon for Erik to keep secrets, I suspected that it was not so insignificant, because then he would have been more precise in his answer. I set the book aside  
  
and looked at the clock. 10:00 in the evening. He had agreed to let me spend the day above ground, but I was to return to him after work everyday. I was content with that arangment, it  
  
allowed me to walk in sunlight. I realized how much I had missed the sun after spending a whole week in the underground. Two days ago, Monsieur Choletti had informed me that he was willing  
  
to give me a second chance to sing Marguerite in Faust. I was so overjoyed by the news that the first thing I did when I returned to Erik was to tell him, but he had not seemed all tha excited  
  
about it. "Well, at least that saved me the trouble of convincing our dear manager". He had remarked dryly, and I had smiled. If anything, he had seemed disapointed that the manager didn't  
  
need to be convinced. Yesterday held a less pleasant memory though. Raoul had cornered me in my dressing room, offering me a bouquet of red roses, saying that he was the one who had  
  
convinced Choletti to let me have another chance at Faust. I felt torn between annoyance and grattitude. I was grateful that he had spoken in my favor, but annoyed that he wanted more than  
  
grattitude from me. I tried to protest, to refuse the flowers, but he would have none of it. He grabbed me by the shoulders and kissed me roughly, holding me so that I could not escape his  
  
embrace. I returned my mind to the present hastily, picking up my book and resuming my reading. No point in dwelling over that. I barely had time to find my page when Erik slammed the  
  
door open, clearly infuriated. "You! Out! Now! Return to your precious little vicomte!". He snarled. What had I done? "Go! Now!" He shouted again. He seized me by the arm and pulled  
  
me to the door, shouting insults at me. I felt my eyes well up with tears. He pushed me brutally outside, slamming the door shut behind me. He must have seen the kiss, or heard Raoul boasting  
  
about it (that was more than likely). I got to my feet unsteadily, brushing off the dirt from my hands. Tears were flowing freely down my cheeks. I called to Erik many times, tried to explain to  
  
him what had happened, but he would not respond. I gave up eventually, making my way to the surface, but I was so distressed that I took a wrong turn and ended up in a place I had never seen  
  
before. I fell to my knees in despair, feeling utterly wretched. A hand fell lightly on my shoulder, and I muffled a scream. I turned around, half- expecting to see Erik, but it was Monsieur Carriere.  
  
"Here child, dry your tears" he said, offering his hankerchief to me. I took it gratefully and dabbed at my eyes, fighting down the urge to bury my face in his shoulder and cry my heart out.  
  
"Now, let me escort you back upstairs" he said gently, put an arm around my shoulders and guided me through the corridors. "Erik is furious at me". I sobbed. "I know, he told me" he said.  
  
"I encountered him before he arrived at the house" he explained at my confused expression. "It wasn't my fault! Raoul forced me!". He didn't reply, he simply squeezed my shoulder and  
  
quickened his pace. I followed without protest until we arrived to my dressing room. "What can I do to show him I haven't betrayed him?" I pleaded. "Don't worry my dear. I'm sure he will  
  
realize it was a misunderstanding. Just give him some time" he said, leaving me to my own thoughts. I looked about the room in misery, at loss for what to do. Waiting would do no good, I  
  
knew that. My eyes fell on my diary, laying open on the page I kept for rehearsals schedule. Faust... At the performance! I could show him I loved him during the performance. He would  
  
hear, and then he would know that I sang only for him, that I loved him.  
  
**********************************THREE DAYS LATER**********************************  
  
Raoul's point of view  
  
Tonight was the night. That fiend would pay for all he had done, and Christine and I would be free to live our life together without fear of him. I had to say that Lady Luck was on our side,  
  
Christine had returned deeply shaken from that underground prison. From what she said, the monster had returned to her one night unexpectedly furious, and had told her to return to her  
  
"darling little vicomte". He could mock me all he wanted, tonight, he would get his come-uppance. The plan had gone remarkably well, Christine knew nothing of it, she was eager to go  
  
onstage, and had full confidance that she would not fail this time. I sat back in my armchair in box 7, waiting for the moment of triumph.  
  
Gerard Carriere's point of view  
  
That was it, everything I could do had been done. After tonight, my life would never be the same.  
  
I just hoped I had made the right decision. I decided to stay backstage to watch the performance, it was more discreet. The curtain was going up...  
  
Christine's point of view  
  
I usually was very nervous before a performance, but this time I felt strangely serene. It was as though nothing mattered but getting my message through to Erik. Music was the only way for me  
  
to make him believe that I truly loved him. I would sing for him tonight, and that was all the evidence he would need.  
  
Raoul's point of view  
  
Halfway through the performance, I stopped worrying about the phantom. He obviously had decided not to show up for the gala. That was just as well, for once we could enjoy an opera  
  
without incident. Christine was magnificent tonight, and I intended to show her how much I had enjoyed her performance as soon as it was over. I smiled at the thought.  
  
Gerard Carriere's point of view  
  
I was beginning to think that he would never show up, but I should have known better. She was singing with all her soul, and I knew very well for who she was singing. During the final trio,  
  
Christine suddenly turned away from Alfredo (the lead singer) and stared up at box fixe. I followed her gaze, and saw Erik standing there, draped in his cloak, looking down on Christine  
  
with an almost trance-like intensity. As she sang "c'est toi, je suis tienne", he took over to reply "oui, c'est moi je t'aime. Marguerite. Je t'ai retrouvée. Je t'ai retrouvée. Te voilà sauvée. C'est  
  
moi viens, viens sur mon coeur". They sang together like angels, their voices joined in perfect harmony. A pity it had to be so short lived. As soon as the last note died out among the  
  
tumultuous applause, gunshots started banging from all directions. Erik leaped on the stage like a feline, lifted Christine in his arms and ran backstage with her. I rushed after him, coming between  
  
him and a group of police men. "Don't shoot! Don't!" I shouted at them. Not only didn't I want Erik hurt, but they could very well misfire and touch Christine. Erik fled upstairs, making his  
  
way to the roof. I followed along with Raoul, Ledoux and his men. I would prevent blood from being shed if I could. Raoul ran at full speed to catch up with Erik and Christine, and by the time  
  
I arrived with the policemen, he was already struggling with Erik. I could only watch helplessly as Ledoux ordered his men to surround Erik, who had just hit Raoul square in the face, the latter  
  
hanging on for dear life from the banister. Erik was about to drop him to his death when Christine pleaded to let him live. "Erik! Please! Erik, if you love me! If you love me please!" He hesitated  
  
a moment, then helped the young man to safety. The two men glared at each other, but eventually, Raoul went away. The policemen had taken the opportunity to surround Erik, their  
  
guns pointed at him. He climbed up on the banister, looking around for a way to escape. "Hold your fire! I want to take him alive!" Ledoux instructed. Erik turned around and stared at me  
  
imploringly, pointing at his masked face as explanation. He feared above all things to end up on display, like some animal. I knew what I had to do. I took out the weapon from my breast pocket  
  
and aimed it at him. I met his eyes, and he nodded. I closed my eyes and pulled the trigger.  
  
Christine's point of view  
  
I stood transfixed on the spot, staring at the display before me. He had shot him. I could not belive it. He had shot his own son. I saw Erik clutch his chest, the blood soaking his shirt and  
  
flowing through his fingers, leaning forward and falling, falling to thelower part of the roof, where Carriere and the policemen were. I flew down the stairs, I had to talk to him before he died, I had to say how sorry I was. When I reached Monsieur Carriere, he was cradling Erik in his arms, telling him how sorry he was. I knelt next to Erik, took his hand in mine and held it tight.  
  
"Christine...Ohh.. Christine" he sighed. I looked in his eyes, I wanted him to know that I loved him, and not Raoul. I reached out and pulled at the strings holding his mask in place. "No.. No  
  
no..." he moaned, but I pulled of the mask, regardless of his weak protests. I looked at his deformed face without revulsion, and kissed his forehead. When I drew back, I smiled at him  
  
with all the love and tenderness he had ever shown me. I replaced his mask just as he closed his eyes for the last time. I looked at Monsieur Carriere sadly, he was rocking Erik in his arms. A  
  
loving father losing his only son.  
  
  
  
Author's notes.  
  
Whew! Next chapter will be the last one. I hope you enjoyed this. I just love making Raoul a complete jerk. Oh, I forgot, he IS a complete jerk! Sorry for the sad ending, but I think it is best to keep to that part of the story. It wouldn't be half as wonderful if Erik survived. Here's the translation to the lyrics in French, in the order they appeared. C- It is you, I am yours. E- Yes, it is I. I love you. Marguerite. I have found you. I have found you. You are saved. It is I, come, come upon my heart.  
  
In the next chapter : How Christine's goes on with her life. 


	8. Epilogue

Disclaimer : I don't own any of the characters, they belong to Gaston Leroux. Gerard Carriere belongs to Misters Yeston and Kopit. I make no money out of this, it is purely for entertainment.  
  
Sweden, eight years later.  
  
Christine's point of view  
  
Eight years, eight long years since that faithful night at the opera house. After the events on the roof, I let Raoul escort me back to my flat, but I wouldn't see him after that. I wanted to be alone  
  
with my grief, with nothing to remind me of the dreadful events that had taken place. My hermitage was interupted by Monsieur Carriere's visit. He offered me to live with, saying how  
  
lonely and in need of company he was. I was moved by his plea, and I accepted his offer. After all, that way we could talk about Erik to our hearts' content. We moved to Sweden a few months  
  
after that, wanting to put as much distance between us and the Opera and Raoul. Gerard, he had asked me to call him by name, had bought a very lovely little house for us. The days went by  
  
smoothly, our life patterns setting themselves into a relaxed routine. It was disturbed one day by a most unexpected visitor. When I thought of it, I felt I was incredibly foolish to think that he  
  
would let anything hold us apart for long. It was so silly, those two were the best of accomplices in everything, how could they not have arranged it? Gerard had mastered the art of make-believe  
  
years ago, a skill that made up for his abysmal aim, or so he said. A smile tugged at my lips as I made my way back home, to the man who became a second father to me, and to the one who  
  
became my husband, Erik.  
  
Author's note : Well, that's it. For those who had guessed the ending, not so congratulations, as it was pretty obvious. I still have to work on my mystery writing. I'm much better with emotion. Althouhg I'm a purist to some extend, OF COURSE I would never kill Erik, and OF COURSE I would never let Raoul get Christine. Not this time at least. Perhaps some day.  
  
Many thanks to all those who reviewed. Read my other stories please. (no harm in a little self publicity) 


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